


The Unexamined Life

by swagcat9000



Category: Homestuck
Genre: College AU, Collegestuck, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Gay, Homestuck - Freeform, Karkat Vantas - Freeform, M/M, Mental Illness, POV Karkat Vantas, POV Second Person, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Self Harm, coffee shop AU, dave strider - Freeform, davekat - Freeform, karkat is emo, listen yall ive got plans for this fanfiction so get ready for this shit, mlm, mlm by mlm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-09-28 08:45:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10082012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swagcat9000/pseuds/swagcat9000
Summary: "The unexamined life is not worth living."Socrates, as quoted in Plato's Apology, 399 BC.Karkat Vantas has headed off to college. His friend, Jade, gets him to join her book club, and there he meets Dave Strider. Davekat shenanigans ensue.





	1. The Life We Bury-i

"If you check my Web site, you can find the file for today's slideshow. I don't know, guys, I really didn't plan as far as homework assignments today. Um, you there, in the third row, tell me. Hm. What's your favorite color?"  
You looked up from your notebook. The professor was looking at you, as were the students on either side.  
"Yes, you." he said, losing patience. "Favorite color?"  
"Red?"  
“Red! Everyone, homework is to write a paragraph or so in prose. Make it about the color red. See you on the flip side.”  
You began packing your things. Although you weren’t a good student in high school, college was different. Less depressing, more focus on a few subjects rather than minimal focus on seven. Plus, access to resources like spending money and online shopping let you get stationery and supplies to keep organized, which made you happy. Overall, quality of life had gone up, at least by that metric.  
“Hey, Karkat!”  
One of your friends, Jade, came up to you and helped you put away some supplies.  
“I’m considering starting a book club, want to join?”  
“Depends.”  
“On what?”  
“It’ll be pretty casual, probably some snacks and talking. A lot of hanging out more than anything else. Come to my house on tomorrow night at around five. There’ll be pizza?” she tried.  
“Fine,” you sighed in faux exasperation. “Only for the pizza.”  
“That’s the spirit. We could also play some games or something, if you like.”  
You walked together out of the classroom. It was time to leave and go back to the dorms.  
“It sounds fun. Who else is going to be there?”  
“A few other friends of mine. Like I said, it’s going to be pretty low-key and casual. You’ll love it.”  
“You know that’s statistically unlikely.”  
“Um, excuse you, who’s the one in the statistics class here. Adjusting for the day’s introversion rates, the average statistical probability of you enjoying yourself tomorrow is a forty two percent. With pizza, add ten percent. Plus, we’ll have cocktails. You’re such a lightweight, one cocktail adds about twenty five percent, with an extra seven for each additional drink. What is that, about eighty four percent if you have two?”  
“I’m a freshman, I’m not allowed to drink.”  
She raised her eyebrows.  
“Really? Tell that to eighteen year old you at the graduation party.”  
“Okay, you got me there.”  
“My roommate is old enough and has a fully stocked bar, it’s great for parties.”  
”I’ll go, as long as nobody lame is there.” you agreed.  
“You know I have great taste in people. Are you going home?”  
“Yeah, I have a lot of homework to do. There’s this writing thing, plus criminal justice case files are due tomorrow.” you explained, prepared to delve into the details, but hesitating, unsure if Jade would appreciate the enthusiasm.  
“What’s your file on?”  
“Well, I was lucky. I got the highest score on the last test, so first dibs on case files. It’s a little gruesome, but it’s an arson/murder case. There’s a lot that goes into it, value of the building, et cetera, and I’m really liking the class even though we’re just a month or so in.”  
“It sounds interesting. For me, I’ve been having some difficulties in my algebra class. Imaginary numbers really tanked my grade.”  
“Don’t worry, my class is a little ahead of yours and the next unit is way easier. Quadratics are going to help you out a lot, they’re no problem.”  
You noticed you were blocks away from the dormitories and Jade had missed her turn.  
“Are you coming home with me tonight?”  
“Pfft, no.” she laughed. “I can’t walk you home safely?”  
“I don’t need protection.”  
“You’re five-foot-five.”  
“I’ll be fine, I can throw a punch.”  
“Yeah, “a punch”. Singular.”  
You frowned as she ruffled your hair at the corner of the dormitory.  
“See you tomorrow, Karkat. Have a good night!” she said, walking away.  
“Bye, Jade.”  
You checked your mail and opened the letter in the elevator on the way up. Your parents had sent you a few hundred dollars, despite your constant declining. You appreciated it, nonetheless, you were in the market for a new set of highlighters and some fresh clothes.  
Part of being fiercely independent is refusing any and all help, which you did, but for some reason, people liked to try anyways. Even on your sickest days, nobody could help you, even if the room was spinning, so help you god if you asked for assistance.  
Still, pocketing the money, you begrudgingly acknowledged that they would just send it back if you tried to return it. An absent thought flitted through your head, a brief consideration as to where downtown is a good place to buy school supplies.  
“Gamzee? I’m home.” you said, clicking into the room. You tossed your scarf onto your bunk and sat at the desk, spreading out the evening’s assignments and getting out study materials.  
“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, coming out of the bathroom in a towel.  
“Decency, please.”  
“Come on, we’re both men here, we can live with it.”  
You pretended to take a very sudden interest in your assignment planner, staring at it closely in order to avert your eyes. Your high school friend has no idea he makes you uncomfortable, but he’s all you have, not to mention you’re roommates, so you really ought to deal with it.  
As you opened your math textbook, the smell of weed hit you in the face.  
“Gamzee, if you’re going to smoke, please do it outside.” you mumbled, turning to open the window and put on a fan.  
“Come on, it’s not an issue. Plus, stoned showers are the best, trust me on this.”  
Without looking up, you noticed him changing and cringed as the towel hit the floor, silently praying he’d leave soon. The gross smoke was making you gag, and his immodesty bothered you. Maybe he’d go out and hang with some friends overnight instead of here.  
Reluctantly, you started working, but the anxiety surrounding the situation was distracting, it made your pencil shake as you worked. You knew how immature it was to be bothered by his nudity, but you couldn’t change it, something about him doing it constantly got under your skin.  
Within a few math problems, he went. Of course, at registration, rooming with your best friend seemed ideal, but weeks into college and it’s bad. He has no sense of propriety and now you have to deal with his habits, pot smoking, and you’re pretty certain you’ve seen a charred spoon over on his side of the room.  
Seeing him go, you got up and put on the bathroom fan and opened all the windows to the outside world, shoving a t-shirt over the crack in the bottom of the door in order to prevent anyone else in the building from detecting it. Finally, with cool, clean air filtering through, you were able to focus.  
After homework, you stayed up late watching bad crime drama on the tiny box television and fell asleep on the couch. To be done with the day’s work and relaxing without your roommate anywhere nearby was the most idyllic scenario for an evening.  
At nine in the morning, you woke. As you got dressed and ready, you thought about the day ahead, with the club and classes, plus your Monday/Wednesday/Friday class, Drawing Basics.  
The day passed quickly, probably because you were partly dreading the event that night. It contained all of your fears, social interaction with people you don’t know, the possibility of getting drunk in front of strangers, the screw-ups are limitless.  
The final period of your school day was the best part; you loved the current project. Drawing cartoon characters as skeletons was an interesting study in anatomy. Art class ended at four thirty and as you left, the teacher stopped you.  
“Hey, Karkat.” he said. “Do you want to come in a few extra times? Your blending techniques could use some work. Maybe stay an extra half hour?”  
“I can’t tonight, sorry. I have a book club at five, so I really gotta go. Sorry.”  
“Oh, that’s a shame. Well, have a good evening.”  
“See you next week.”  
Jade’s place was a stylish house in the middle of the sorority/fraternity hellscape. You were proud that she didn’t join a sorority, also known as “paying for friends and status”. Not that it was ever a concern, she really isn’t into the cookie-cutter experience of the preppy majority. It shows, too, her house a stately, avant-garde thing, with an overflowing amount of foliage creeping up the walls and over the fence.  
You went up to the front door and rung the bell. A few seconds later, Jade opened the door.  
“Hey, welcome to the club. Come on in!”  
“Don’t mind if I do.” you said, kicking off your shoes. “Who’s here so far?”  
“We’re waiting on one more. Let’s go back to the living room, everyone else is there.”  
You hadn’t been to her house for a while, and since move-in day, the place had been decorated and rearranged significantly, it now gave off the vibe of a hipstery bar rather than a space to drink.  
“Take a seat. Everyone, this is Karkat.”  
A knock sounded at the door  
“I’ll grab that, it’s probably John.”  
“Hello,” the girl on the couch introduced, offering her hand. You shook. “I’m Rose; this is my cousin, Dave.”  
“Yeah, that’s me.”  
Rather than a handshake, he gave a fist bump. You sat on the couch perpendicular to them, and Jade came back in with the last guest.  
“Hey, Dave! Rose! And you must be the Karkat I’ve heard so much about.” he enthused. “I’m John, Jade’s cousin.”  
“Oh, wow,” you were a bit taken aback by both the enthusiasm and the amount of relatives in the room. “Hi.”  
They sat on either side of you.  
“How are you guys doing today?” John asked.  
“I’m well. My girlfriend and I were able to get room assignments switched, so now we share a room.” Rose said. “And we moved into the feline-friendly dormitory on the south side of campus, so we’re driving home this weekend to grab Jaspers and live with him up here.”  
“Sweet, but why didn’t you tell me sooner? I thought we were friends.” he responded in mock offense.  
“I wanted to wait to tell everybody, Dave. Isn’t it better for us all to be able to talk about it?”  
“I agree with her.” said Jade. “It’s much better hearing about this together. This is such good news!”  
Everyone continued conversation for a few minutes. You don’t know most of them, and you feel very awkward. Someone said your name.  
“What?”  
“Ha, you spaced right out!” John teased. “We’re discussing pizza toppings. Which ones do you prefer.”  
“I’m a picky eater, I only like cheese pizza. I’ll only eat two slices max, though, if that makes a difference.”  
“Okay, we’re looking at two pizzas. Half cheese, other side sausage and pepperoni. On the second, half onions and tomato, and the other with ham and pineapple.”  
“Gross!” you half-shouted. “Ham and pineapple is the worse thing in the world.”  
“What are you talking about? It’s the best, back me up on this.”  
John looked around at everyone else.  
“Come on, it’s good!”  
“Sorry, man, but your pizza opinions are shit. Hate to break it to you.” Dave said.  
“This is bullying.” he whined jokingly.  
You laughed with the group, and began warming up to them.  
Jade placed the call and stood behind the bar, getting out a cocktail shaker.  
“John! What do you want?” she shouted.  
“I don’t know. Hm.”  
She waved him over and you followed, as did the other two and sat at the barstools.  
John thought on his drink for a second. “What do you think I’d like?”  
“You seem like a Royal Blue kind of guy. It’s got citron vodka, blue curaco, and cranberry juice.” she explained.  
“I don’t know what most of that means, but I like cranberry juice.”  
She laughed. John really was a bit of a dork.  
“Next up, Karkat. What can I make for you?”  
“I’ll go for my signature cocktail.”  
She cocked her head. “And what is that?”  
“C’mon, Jade. Blackcurrant Cream Dream, you’ve made it for me a million times.”  
“Ah, yeah! It’s been a while, don’t blame me because I forgot it. Besides, I remember now, so shush up and get drunk with us.”  
Another voice cut through the conversation.  
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Dave said.  
“What do you mean?”  
“A drink that’s fruity, has cream, and a rhyming name? That’s a girly drink.” he scoffed.  
You defended yourself. “So? It’s good! I like fruity drinks!”  
“Maybe it’s because you’re fruity, too.”  
“Hey!”  
“Haha, bingo.” he laughed.  
“Dave, you act like your favorite drink isn’t girly.” Jade commented offhandedly.  
“It’s sophisticated.”  
“One candied grapefruit gin, coming right up.”  
“A drink that’s fruity and candied, Dave? Really?” you jabbed. “And you make fun of me for my drink.”  
“Come on, let’s not have a friendly argument. We should pass out the books.” John suggested.  
With drinks in hand, everyone sat back down on the couch. Jade brought out a plastic bag, looking about three seconds from bursting apart.  
“In the future, we’ll choose books as a club, but for now, I’ve chosen the first book. It’s called “The Life We Bury” and I think it’ll be a fun read.” she explained.  
Upon receiving your copy, you spoke up.  
“What’s it about?”  
“Well, I haven’t read it yet, but a convicted rapist/murderer. I think I know what will happen, though.”  
“Yeah,” Rose agreed. “I bet he’s proven innocent by the end.”  
“Same, there’s no way in hell the author would write all this and go to the trouble and not have him be innocent.” A door slammed in the driveway. “Sounds like pizza’s here.” Dave said.  
Jade picked them up, and the books were forgotten as you ate, You were feeling a little more than tipsy at this point.  
“You guys wanna watch a show? Maybe one of those TLC shows, where they do weird things, what’s it called?” she asked.  
“My Strange Addiction?” you tried.  
“Yes! I love it!”  
Dave laughed. “It makes me feel better about my problems. Like yeah, I got issues, but at least I’m not the dude who was in an “intimate relationship” with his car. We all know what that means.”  
“What does that mean?” John asked.  
“You see, son, when a man and a car love each other very much, they start having special feelings for one another, and-”  
“Dave!” he exclaimed.  
“You’re the one who asked.”  
Jade brought over more drinks, which you drank too quickly. Your mouth was so dry and salty from the food, you needed something, therefore, drinking was the most logical solution to that problem.  
An hour or so later, you were completely hammered, standing up and swaying while putting your book in your backpack for the walk home. God, the walk home, you'd have to walk all the way home like this.  
“Dude,” Dave commented. “how much of a lightweight are you?”  
“He’s pretty short, I’d imagine he doesn’t take liquor well.” John said tactlessly.  
You dismissed their concern with a quick “I’m fine” and started to go.  
“Bye, Karkat!” they called.  
You had planned to start the book on the way home, but now, you just have to concentrate on getting back to the dorms without being killed. You were very drunk and staggered home, somehow in one piece after almost getting hit by cars twice. You were a daredevil, and nothing could stop you, not even barely-navigating the perils of an escalator.  
Finally, you were able to sigh with relief as you entered the building a few minutes before the quiet policy took effect. You had six minutes to stop making noise, which was more than enough, but being as clumsy as you were made it even more difficult to avoid being loud. However, you opened the door to your room safely, ready to hit the sheets and sleep off the alcohol, mentally preparing yourself for the killer hangover to surely follow.


	2. The Life We Bury-ii

You opened the door to the room and stepped into the darkness.  
“Gamz? Are you here?“ you called.  
“Hey, where were you?”  
“I was hanging out with Jade.”  
You slung off your backpack and sat on the couch. He jumped down from his bunk and sat next to you.  
“Are you drunk?”  
“Yes, a little.”  
“I didn’t know you liked drinking.”  
“I can drink with friends. It was a small book club gathering.” you explained, tripping over your words.  
He slung an arm around you, smelling of weed and sweat.  
“So. How’re you feeling?”  
“Pretty tipsy. I think I’m gonna have to go to sleep soon.” you let your head relax, resting it on the back of the couch. Thoughts were drowning in your head, it felt like you were thinking in syrup.  
“That’s okay.” he said. “It’s good to sleep it off.”  
You heard his voice, closer to your ear.  
“Relax, bro. You’ll feel better in the morning.”  
Drifting off, you felt him against you, shirtless. You tried to shuffle away, but the exhaustion and the alcohol was too much, and then you let go, the world went dark.  
The weekend passed. Working at the coffee shop was fun, studying took up more time than it should have, but your enjoyable classes made up for the bore of math.  
You worked a little more on your prose about the color red. Granted, you had already checked it in for a grade, but you felt like improving it more, the passions of red filled your thoughts. Love burns red, hatred burns just as so, ambition and rough kisses, in all-consuming shades of red.  
Monday morning, you rolled out of bed mind-numbingly tired. You sat on the floor for a few minutes, staring into space, until you felt ready to move, getting ready slowly and making a cup of instant coffee before heading to school. It was boring today, your criminal justice class was going to be the only fun part before Drawing. You began with a discussion about morals and violent crimes, having a talk about what the repercussions for assault should be. The teacher had to step in, because you were getting a little bit heated when the conversation turned to domestic abuse and what should be done about it. Some fratboy douche who, for some reason, took a law class, was arguing that it’s the victim’s fault. However, before you could stand up and truck the guy, the professor decided to commence the lecture.  
In your writing class, a solipsistic jerk began citing Ayn Rand as a justification of mistreatment of the poor, and you just about lost it. It seemed like everyone was trying to deliberately set you off, and by the end of the day, you were fuming.  
Later on in the day, you went into drawing class and set up your workstation. Eventually, your rage settled into a comfortable fixation. After detailing the leg bone of a cartoon character for about half the hour, you set your pen down and took a break for a moment, looking around, trying to refocus your eyes after staring at the paper. You noticed someone you knew across the room.  
“Dave?” you asked awkwardly.  
He looked confused and glanced around before spotting you.  
“Hey, I didn’t know you took this class.” he said.  
“Me neither. I guess I just didn’t notice you until we formally met.”  
“It would make sense, I’m not exactly noticeable.” he laughed.  
That was untrue. His bleach-blond hair and pale skin wasn’t exactly helping him blend in, that, topped off with his giant mirrored shades made him stick out. You supposed you had noticed him before, but just hadn’t put two and two together on Friday.  
“What are you drawing?” you asked, sliding into the empty seat beside him.  
He spread out the sketches on the table.  
“I was thinking some sort of food or cereal mascot. I considered the Lucky Charms leprechaun, but he’s too easy, so I settled on Toucan Sam. Like, from Froot Loops?”  
“Cool!”  
You leaned in and looked at his artwork.  
“These are really nice, I love the anatomy of the giant beak. And the way his wings are more like giant hands than wings, that’s a good way to tie in the anthropomorphism.”  
He smiled. “Thanks. What are you doing?”  
“Blue, from the show Blue’s Clues.”  
“Shit, man, I loved that show as a kid. Can I see?”  
You brought over your sketchbook and pulled out a few of the miscellaneous drawings.  
“Wow, nice. I bet it was difficult to figure out what to do with all that head.”  
“Yeah, her head is gigantic. But I was able to compromise between a wide jaw and cheekbones.”  
“But her paws are so disproportionate! How did you ever get all the bones in that tiny space?”  
“Oh, dirty little secret. I actually got rid of the second bone in the toes to conserve space.” you explained.  
“I get it, I had to compromise most of Sam’s ribs to get his shoulderblades to properly align with his collarbones.”  
“Yeah, this project is really getting difficult. What’d you think of the last one?”  
“It was a lot easier. That was just drawing a couple of things, this one is actually making us think about how it would work.” he said.  
“I agree. The saving grace of the assignment here is that it’s more interesting. Anatomy is super hard, though.”  
You took a look at your watch.  
“Looks like it’s about time for class to end.”  
“And just in time.”  
“Right? I’ve been salty all day.”  
He leaned on his hand.  
“Oh? And why is that?”  
“Well, first off, there was this jerk in my criminal justice class who was trying to tell me domestic abuse is the victim’s fault, and then, in writing class, another kid was saying that mistreatment of the poor is okay, citing ‘Atlas Shrugged’ by Ayn Rand to make his point. If you find yourself using objectivism to say that letting people starve is okay,your argument is already too far gone.” you rambled.  
“Well, I didn’t understand the second half of that, but they sound like jerks. You’re very smart, aren’t you?”  
Looking away, you rubbed the back of your neck nervously. “I wouldn’t say that.” but even then, you couldn’t help but allow yourself the ghost of a smile.  
“I would. Also, speaking of literature, how far are you into The Life We Bury? I’m about halfway.”  
“So am I. What do you think so far?”  
“I really like it. I don’t mean to cheat on the book club, but you seem to have some intelligent opinions on things. Do you want to come over tonight? I could cook us some dinner and we could talk about the book?”  
“Are you assuming I have nothing going on tonight?” you asked, pretending to be offended.  
“Would I be right?”  
“Yes,” you admitted, sighing, “but that proves nothing.”  
Chuckling, he continued.  
“So are you in or are you out?”  
“I guess I’m in. Right after class?”  
“Sounds good to me. Not like I have anything going on, either.”  
After a few more minutes of work, the teacher dismissed the class for the evening, and you and Dave left together.  
“So, what’s for dinner? The very best of dorm food?” you said sarcastically.  
“I have ramen and a kettle, that’s the five-star cuisine of La Maison de Strider.”  
“Oh, god, no.” you gasped. “Don’t tell me you’re a French student.”  
“Is that a bad thing?”  
“In my high school experience, French students are the most pretentious of the Language Department.”  
“Hell, no, we’re not.” he defended.  
“I can name specific instances. Freshman year, a guy hit on me in French, and he was unreasonably mad when I said no, and I’m quoting, “I even translated it into French for you, the romance language.” Your defense?”  
“That is remarkably sad. However, I’m learning it, and I’m not that sad. I’m actually pretty cool, believe it or not.”  
“I think I’ll go with ‘not’.”  
“Hey!”  
“What, did I strike a nerve?” you teased. “Payback for calling me fruity and making fun of my drink, Mr. “Candied Grapefruit Gin”.”  
“We’ve been over this, candied grapefruit is classy. Even if it was girly, gin is manly enough to cancel it out. It’s a neutral drink at best.”  
“Perhaps, but have we considered that it’s also pink and has sugar around the rim? That has to count for something.”  
“Trust me. I’m a far more experienced drinker than you are. You’ve hardly had a drop in your life.”  
“You may be able to handle it better, but let’s not forget, I’ve learned a lot by proxy, just hanging out by other drinkers lets me absorb knowledge through osmosis.”  
“See? More nerdy science stuff.”  
“I'm not a nerd, I took high school biology.”  
You turned on the corner, heading towards the east dormitory building, the tallest of all. You stared up at the whole forty floors.  
“Don't tell me you live way up there.” you said monotonously.  
“Not all the way up. Floor thirty seven, though.”  
“Jesus. You invite me over to cheat on the club and make me walk up a thousand flights of stairs?”  
“Chill, there's an elevator. Let's hope it's not broken again.”  
“My fucking god.”  
“Come on, I'm messing with you. Let's head on up.”  
You stepped into his room, total darkness except for the dying daylight seeping through the thick curtains.  
“Great. Am I about to be murdered?”  
He flicked a switch, and strings of lights lit up, snaking over several surfaces.  
“I'm not a serial killer.” he said, dropping into a beanbag chair. “Sit.”  
“You may not be a serial killer, yet. I could be your first.”  
You took the beanbag next to him, setting your backpack down next to you and taking in the surrounding room. He lived in a single dorm with a hipstery vibe. A photoline hung above a developer’s station, a set of turntables on the tiny kitchen table.  
“Ooh, my first. Romantic.”  
Laughing, he pulled out a copy of the book.  
“So what part did you leave off on?” he asked.  
“Right after the bit about Carl’s experiences in Vietnam. Do you think that changes anything about whether or not he did the crime?”  
“Well, I think refusing to rape someone at threat of death does say something. Logically, though, I know that he still could have done it.”  
“But,” you interrupted. “intuitively, you know he didn't, because of the nature of the book?”  
“Exactly. I also think that Joe and Lila are going to fuck by the end of the book. Intuitively, that is.”  
“Ugh, shut up.” you smacked him on the shoulder with your book. “Can't they be friends without anything between them?”  
“You see, I’m not saying they can't, I'm saying in this particular case, they're gonna get together. I'd bet money, man.”  
He stood and headed into the sad kitchenette and started the electric kettle.  
“What do you want, chicken or beef ramen?”  
“Hm, they're both equally MSG-laced public safety nightmares, but if I had to choose? Chicken.” you responded.  
“Don't sass me, Karkat. I'll skimp on the flavor powder if you give me lip like that again.”  
“Like that's a bad thing. You're just giving me a smaller quantity of carcinogenic bootleg cocaine.”  
“Well, I'll give you two packets, then.”  
“Gee whiz, I guess I'll stop being a sarcastic teen.”  
“See? More facetious commentary. That's another sprinkle of cancer in your ramen, dude.” he set two bowls on the counter and placed the noodle blocks in them.  
Sitting back down, he flipped back into the discussion questions in the back of the book.  
“If Carl didn't do it, who did?”  
You flipped through the book, to when the protagonist read the case file.  
“It says she had a boyfriend, a stepdad, and stepbrother. Most of the time, the victim knows their attacker, so I bet it's one of those. You?”  
“I agree. I don't remember the exact statistic, but it's almost always a friend, family member, or significant other. This whole book is pretty crazy.”  
The water began hissing.  
“I better get that.”  
He hopped up and poured the water.  
“So where were we? Who do you think did it?”  
“Definitely the stepson.”  
“What? No way, it's the stepdad.”  
You scoffed.  
“I bet you ten dollars it's the son.”  
“You're on.”  
The timer beeped and he brought over the steaming bowls and chopsticks, so you set down the books to eat.  
“So what do you do outside of school?” he asked.  
“Not a lot. I'm a barista- baristo? Is that the masculine version of barista?”  
“I think it's just barista. Go on.”  
“I work at that little hipster coffee shop further downtown. It's cool, I have a few work friends.”  
“Is it that combination coffee shop/bar?”  
“Yeah, that's the one.” you said. “How'd you know?”  
“Rose’s girlfriend works there. Do you know her?”  
“Is that Kanaya?”  
“Yeah, actually. It's so weird. We’re in the same drawing class. You're friends with Jade, one of my best friends, and with Kanaya, my cousin’s girlfriend, yet we've never met.”  
“Well, it was bound to happen eventually. We have that collaborative art assignment coming up, maybe the teacher would have chosen us to be partners or something.” you pondered.  
“Eh, I seriously doubt that. A one in what, twenty four chance? I bet without Jade we would have gone on not knowing each other until we graduate.”  
“No way. Besides the club, she probably would have had some party or something, and we might have met there.”  
“I don’t do parties, Karkat. You think I’m into that sort of thing, the parties, the stereotypical college existence?”  
“I never said that. So you don’t party. What do you do out of school, then?”  
“Look around. I’m a photographer and a DJ. That’s pretty much it.” he gestured around the room.  
“A DJ that doesn’t like parties? That’s a niche. Who do you DJ for, then?”  
“Only myself. Nobody hears these records but me, that’s how I like it. Something about them being mine and mine alone, it’s like a secret.”  
You snorted at the unnecessary exclusion of everyone else.  
“What?”  
“Nothing.” you grinned.  
“Come on, what is it?”  
“That’s just the most pretentious thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”  
“I’m not pretentious, I like keeping my music to myself. Is that such a problem?” he quirked, indicative of false offense.  
A shave-and-a-haircut knock interrupted your conversation.  
“Who’s that?” you asked.  
“I don’t know. I told you, I didn’t have plans for tonight. Sit tight.”  
He went to answer, and John stood in the doorway, hand poised to knock again.  
“Hey, Dave!” he bounded in. “Want to play some- oh.”  
He noticed you.  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to butt in on anything. I’ll go back to my room if you want.”  
“No, stay. If it’s fine with Karkat, that is, we could play video games.” Dave looked down at you for your opinion.  
“Yeah, that’s okay. What games do you have?”  
He knelt near the TV and opened the cabinet beneath. A Nintendo Wii and a PS4 sat inside.  
“Whoa, you’re kidding!” you scooted over on your knees to get a better look. “How did you ever afford this?”  
“Well,” he said, smiling at your enthusiasm. “I had a small college fund set away, but that was before I learned about how many scholarships and grants I could apply for, and I got a lot of them. So I blew my savings on this sweet rig and all the games I could ever want.”  
“Oh my god. Wow.”  
You hadn’t seen proper video games since you left home, it had been so long. Rifling through the stack of games, John helped you pick some fun ones to play together while Dave set up the television with the consoles, briefly talking while the wires and inputs distracted him.  
Between a debate about what racing game to play, John asked a few questions.  
“So, Karkat, what brings you ‘round these parts?”  
“Today we realized we share a drawing class, and we were talking. I invited him over to hang out over some ramen noodles.” Dave responded absently, plugging in a final cord. The home screen of the Wii faded in.  
“So, what did you two pick?”  
He sat down on the floor next to you and passed around the controllers.  
“We were thinking Mario Kart first.” John said.  
“Ready to get your ass kicked?” you popped in the disk.  
“You don’t know how good I am at this, Karkat. Just watch.”  
You selected your characters and began the race. Laps passed, you and Dave neck and neck for most of it, you taking the lead in the final stretch.  
A shell came out of nowhere and knocked out your character, spinning into a wall and watching at at least three other cars fly past you.  
“Did you just fucking blue shell me?” you fumed, eyes jumping between your opponents.  
A small, sheepish smile crossed John’s face.  
“Come on! How did you benefit from that at all?”  
You stared at the scores.  
“You got seventh place, anyways! I was winning.”  
The two of them began laughing together. Incredulously, you watched them, trying to figure out what you were missing.  
“Guys?”  
Dave took a breath and patted your shoulder.  
“Wow, when Jade told us you were hotheaded, she wasn’t kidding. I’ve never seen someone get so mad at this game.”  
You crossed your arms.  
“It’s an emotional topic, I take it seriously.”  
They erupted into another fit of laughter as you tried to maintain composure.  
“Come on, it’s not funny. I bet most people get invested into it as much as I do.”  
A few minutes later, they stopped teasing you and let you get on with another race. The total scores were you, 3; Dave, 4; and John, 1. You made your way through the stack of video games as the night wore on and sleep started to drag you down. You decided to go home after the last round of the night.  
“You want us to walk you?” John asked.  
“I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”  
Slipping on your shoes, Dave tossed you your scarf from where you had left it.  
“Really, it’s fine. Let’s go.” he insisted, putting on a jacket and opening the door. “John?”  
“Coming!” he called, hobbling behind you with shoes half on.  
The streets were mostly quiet, after all, nine PM on a Monday isn’t the most popular hour for socializing. The stars were crowded out by the intense city lights, both a reminder of the incredible human success and the terrible human impact. They walked you home in the cold, and after the evening was over, you felt remarkably okay.


	3. The Life We Bury-iii

The book club was something you cared about, so when you were getting ready to go for the evening and realized how grown-out your hair was, insecurity struck you. Your roots were showing and it was awful, the tiny bit of ginger hair that was visible beneath the black dyed part made you look like someone took a redhead and combed crude oil through his hair.  
What to do, you wondered, looking around. Applying mascara to your hairline would work, but you wouldn’t be able to touch your hair all evening, and washing it out would be gross. Wearing a hat would be dumb indoors. You’re out of hair dye, but you saw the never-been-used remover in the back of the cabinet and decided to make your hair normal again.  
You hadn’t done that in a while, even Jade probably didn’t remember what your natural hair looked like- having first dyed it in high school, for most of your friendship, you had black hair. You even wore eyebrow makeup and light mascara to appear black haired altogether.  
Screw appearances, you thought, squeezing some of the remover onto your head and rubbing it through.  
Getting out of the shower and dressing again, you blow dried and wiped away the mirror’s steam, gaping at your face. All the black was gone, even from your eyebrows, and you looked completely different. The old ginger color was back and your style was suddenly changed. A big sweater on someone with black hair was emo, but with red hair, you were a hipster.  
In the middle of your staring, your phone chimed. You had fifteen minutes to walk there and you were still in your dorm. Somehow, both you and Dave had forgotten your books at home, so you split up and decided to reconvene at the university’s central fountain before going to Jade’s place. Then, you got distracted by the hair and all that, and now you were running late.  
Remembering you were supposed to be there five minutes ago, you started freaking out again. Panicking, you grabbed your bookbag and ran out the door, down the steps, nearly tripping a few times.  
As you rounded the corner to the convergence of buildings which formed the plaza, you wondered if Dave had waited for you or just decided to leave. Luckily, he was still there, sitting on the edge of the fountain. He noticed you and slid off his headphones.  
“Hey, thought you might have stood me up. What took you so long?”  
After turning the music off and looking at you, he trailed off.  
“What did you do to your hair?”  
“Is there a problem with it?” you worried, running a hand through it.  
“No!” he blurted. “But, like, why?”  
“This is my natural hair. My roots were showing so I decided to get rid of all the dye.”  
“Oh. Okay. It looks nice.”  
You gave a begrudging smile. “Don’t compliment me.”  
“Well, you may be late, but at least you’re not gonna look foolish in front of the club. Got your book?”  
You nearly facepalmed.  
“Goddamn it. I forgot!”  
“Seriously, man? You make me wait all that time and don’t even bring the book you went home to grab in the first place? Shameful.”  
“Hey! My hair was having an emergency, I needed to fix it.” You crossed your arms. “I’ll call Jade, she probably won’t even care that I’m late, more time to spend with everyone else.”  
“First of all, your hair wasn’t bad. I didn’t even notice it was different. Second, I agree. You should call them and let them know you and I are going to be late.”  
“You and I? You can go on without me, I’ll catch up.” you suggested.  
“Nah, it’s fine. Plus, you got to check out my shitty digs, but I haven’t seen where you’re living. It’s a learning experience.”  
You gave a somewhat judgy “pfft” and began walking back.  
“Is that what kids are calling it these days?”  
“Calling what?” Dave asked.  
“Nevermind. So, how has the day been today from the last time I saw you?”  
“Pretty decent. My dorm’s putting up Halloween decorations. Here, hold this real quick.”  
He gave you his headphones which you placed in your bag while he dug in his bag for his scarf.  
“So, Halloween coming up. You suppose the book club’s gonna have a party? We could have a day where we just read scary stories, like when we were kids. Do you remember “Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark” with those creepy drawings?”  
“Those were the shit! I bet we could score a few copies, if they’re still being made. If not, eBay’ll be our savior.”  
For the rest of the journey, small talk was made. You called Jade’s cell to let her know what was going on.  
A few rings in, she picked up, but instead of her voice, warbled music blasted into your ears, before subsiding into a quiet background beats.  
“Hey, what’s up?” she answered.  
“Nothing. I just forgot my book at home so Dave and I are running a little late, is that cool?”  
He looked at you and smiled, and you angled the phone away from your mouth so Jade wouldn’t hear you.  
“What’s that about?” you asked.  
“Nothing at all. Not gonna mention that you stopped at home to dye your hair beforehand, or?”  
“That’s not that important, the past is the past. I’m just telling her why we’re going to be late at this point in time, which is because I forgot my book at home. Now shut up.” you turned back to the phone.  
“Okay, well, I’ll see you in a little while, Karkat.” her doorbell chimed to punctuate the sentence. “I wonder who that is. Anyways, see ya!” she said, and hung up abruptly.  
“Bye.” you finished to nobody. She had already disconnected.  
On the way to the dorms, you talked about the drawing project coming up, school stuff, nothing heavy. At your door, however, you heard music inside and stopped.  
Gamzee was in there, and he was probably even less clothed than usual, considering you weren’t around.  
“I’m just going to check to make sure my roommate is decent, okay?”  
Surprisingly, upon entering, he wasn’t there. He must have just left his radio on or something, so you went over and clicked it off. Weird, he was usually home by the time you got back, being on a slightly different schedule and all. But you pushed him out of your mind for now, you had an admittedly short house tour to give, then a book club to head off to.  
“Dave? Come in in!” you called.  
You pushed the door open and let him through, gesturing to your half of the room with its tidy desk and art hung up.  
“This it?”  
“Yeah?” you responded. “What did you expect from a two-person dorm, you and your bourgeoisie single room.”  
“I’m not bourgeoisie. When the revolution comes, I’m going to be fighting with my fellow comrades.” he joked. “Also!”  
He picked up your book and tossed it to you.  
“Don’t want to forget that here for a third time.”  
“Oh, shut up, I wasn’t going to forget again.” you said, walking towards the door.  
“You probably said that before you forgot the book for a second time.”  
You finally walked to the book club together- the sun had already started setting, and you were way late. The streets were pretty noisy, though, lots of fraternities had parties on Fridays. Judging from the sounds reverberating from Jade’s place, though, they weren’t bored in your absence. You knocked on the door and waited for a while.  
Nothing, so you knocked again, and no response. Dave rang the doorbell.  
“Jesus, what’s going on in there?” he wondered aloud.  
“Sounds like they’re having fun without us. Not that loud music suits my taste or anything, but still.”  
You tried peering through the frosted glass and saw a blurry shape heading towards the door.  
“Oh, here someone is.” you said as the door opened.  
“Hey, Karkat, hey Dave. I got some free speakers from a neighbor and we were just trying them! You want to come in and listen?” Jade asked. “Also, there’s one of your friends here to hang out! Let’s go.”  
“Um, I don’t know...” you trailed off. “It sounds really loud in there and all….”  
“You’ll be fine.”  
Despite her reassurance, you crossed your arms due to nervousness, and even Dave’s posture stiffened considerably as you walked into the house together, quietly shutting the door even though the music would have covered any sort of noise.  
He turned around.  
“She didn’t even notice your hair. That’s really out of character for her.” he noted.  
“Yeah. You’d think anyone would see something so blindingly obvious.”  
You froze as you entered the living room. Sure enough, a worn-out speaker sat next to the stereo system, blasting pre-2013 pop hits, but that’s not what was making you stare. A multitude of empty glasses-long stem margarita glasses, tumblers, shot glasses-were scattered throughout the room, and at the center of it all, your roommate.  
Gamzee looked to be having an interesting conversation with Rose and John, both of them were smiling and laughing along with him. Over the music, you heard something about incense, something, you guessed, Gamzee and Rose could both relate to.  
Anger swelled in your chest and your fingernails involuntarily dug into the palms of your fists. He wasn’t supposed to be here, you never asked him to be here. Your friends were not the same as his friends.  
He noticed you and came over.  
“Gamzee, what on earth are you doing?” you blurted.  
Ignoring your question, he continued. “Hey, roomie. What happened here?” he ruffled your hair. Although you were pissed at him for being at the book club with your friends, him being observant enough to take note of the change made you feel good, marginally less angry.  
“I took out all the hair dye.” you explained, combing it back into place. “What do you think?”  
“I like it. When was the last time I saw you like this, ninth, tenth grade?”  
“Midway through ninth, around when I got my braces off.”  
“Huh. Well, glad to see it still suits you. Anyways, I ought to go. Lots of parties to hit tonight. I’ll be back at the dorm later, though. Jade, John, Rose, it was so nice to meet you, we should hang out again soon.”  
“Bye! Let me show you out!” John jumped up from the couch and they both vanished towards the door.  
“He’s really cool.” Jade said. “Why don’t you talk about him more?”  
John came back into the room. “Yeah! He should join the book club, it would be fun.”  
“I’d rather not, if we’re being honest.” you rejected, met with a chorus of “what?” and protests.  
“Why would you say that?” Rose asked. “He’s pretty nice, you know.”  
Again, you started becoming mad. “He’s not really “your type”, get what I’m saying?”. It made sense in your head, but out loud, it sounded like a weak excuse. The incessant music was starting to aggravate you further. “And can we please turn the speaker down?”  
“That’s unfair of you, Karkat.” Jade said. “We can pick our own friends. If you want Gamzee all to yourself, that’s your problem, not ours.”  
“You don’t know him.”  
“And maybe we will know him, if you give us a chance.” John shot back.  
“Ugh, that’s not the goddamn point.” you stormed past them, upstairs, into the bathroom and locked the door. Screw them, you thought. Gamzee does drugs, parties constantly, barely passes classes-definitely not the type of person they hang out with, yet he comes over once and now they all hate you. You’re protecting them, dammit! Why can’t they see that he’s bad news?  
You leaned against the wall, dropped your bookbag on the ground, and slid down to sit, knees pulled up against your chest, still fuming. You tugged off your scarf and threw it onto the counter, where it proceeded to fall onto the floor, earning an eyeroll and a curse out of you. After a couple seconds, you noticed a sharp pain in your hand and relaxed your fists, wiggling your fingers and staring at the crescent-shaped marks that now scarred your skin. Somehow, a jagged edge on your nail had sliced into you, your left ring fingernail had blood stuck under it, and the corresponding wound didn’t look much better.  
You always keep a band-aid or something in your wallet, so you reached into your bag for that and ran into Dave’s headphones instead. You had put them in your bag and forgotten to give them back to him. The shitty music was still playing from downstairs and still bugging the hell out of you, so you put them on reluctantly and plugged in your phone, putting on your favorite “not having a panic attack” playlist before turning the volume up mindnumbingly loud. You firmly believe that if the music is loud enough, you can’t hear the anger/sadness/whatever afflicted you on a given day.  
Finally, you relaxed, leaning forward to rest your arms and head on your knees, floating away on the music. The bass from the trash downstairs kept thudding, and you could feel it in your gut, yet you shut it out.  
You awoke to someone shaking you, so you yanked off the headphones and looked up, somewhat panicked.  
“You asleep?” Dave asked.  
Rubbing your eyes, you responded.  
“No.”  
“Come on, don’t give me that attitude. When we knocked and you didn’t respond, people started freaking out. It took, like, ten minutes to find something to unlock the door. And are those my headphones?”  
“Sorry.” you admitted. “I had to drown out whatever was on down there.”  
“Which means I didn’t have the luxury to do so.”  
“Again, sorry.”  
He held out a hand and helped you up.  
“Glad you’re not dead, you had me worried there for a moment.”  
“Yeah, sure. What could have possibly happened in what, fifteen minutes? Twenty?” you scoffed, shoving his headphones into his hands roughly and leaving the bathroom. He followed you past the rest of your friends.  
“More like an hour.”  
“Seriously, an hour?”  
Glancing at your watch, you confirmed it had been an hour, incredibly. It felt like you were out for just moments.  
“Hey, Karkat!” Jade called after you. “Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, fine. I think I ought to leave, now. We can hang out next week.”  
You walked downstairs and out the front door, staring at the ground and kicking rocks. Your pissed-offedness had returned after that final exchange and you didn’t know what to do. You would have had dinner with your friends, had Gamzee not been there. Considering the options, you didn’t even hear Dave sneak up behind you until he said your name and you jumped six feet in the air from fright.  
“Whoa, a little high strung, are we?” he laughed.  
“Maybe a bit. Do you need me for anything?”  
“Yeah, what’s wrong? What was up with that whole deal, your roommate and all?”  
You rolled your eyes.  
“I have no idea. I didn’t ask him to tag along or anything, so why he was there is beyond me.”  
“Well, hey. It’s getting a little late and we haven’t eaten yet. Do you want to go grab a bite and talk? There’s a new cafe open a few blocks away, I’ve heard good things.” he suggested.  
“I don’t know. What would we talk about?”  
“Anything. Starting with what happened tonight, preferably.”  
“Fine. Lead the way.” you said, gesturing in the direction of the nearest strip.  
The cafe was a large setup on the corner, and as you recall, it used to be an art gallery. You visited it once when you first came to the city to look at the college. But that was gone, and a two-story coffeehouse stood in its place. You got a fruit cup and a child-size eight-ounce coffee, Dave got a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a giant black coffee. When the waitress brought them out, you were slightly shocked.  
“Not one to judge, but isn’t that a lot of caffeine to drink a few hours before bed?” you asked.  
“Under normal circumstances, yes, but that’s under the assumption I’m going to bed at a reasonable time tonight, which I’m not. If I were, I’d have a smaller size.” he explained. “But on the flip side of that coin, what’s with that tiny drink? That’s barely a swallow.”  
“It’s more than that. I just prefer smaller amounts of coffee.”  
“Oh, yeah. I get it. Like how much of a lightweight you are. I never really thought about it, but I suppose that applies to caffeine, too. That makes sense, then. But how about that little fruit cup?”  
He eyed you, scooping out the bits you didn’t like, pineapple and starfruit.  
“Not all that hungry tonight, after what happened earlier.”  
“Speaking of which, what was up with that? He’s your roommate, so what’s the problem?”  
“Are you condoning him going and hanging out with my friends unannounced?” you said, voice raising.  
“No!” he defended quickly. “All I want to know is what the problem is.”  
“Well, you guys are so clean-cut and he’s a druggie. It just doesn’t work out, mathematically.”  
“What does math have to do with it?”  
You grabbed a napkin and began writing, explaining as you went.  
“You see, on the left side of the equation we have our reactants, the people. On the right, we have our products, a negative or positive relationship. Since people in a relationship amplify each other, it’s a multiplication problem. A negative person times a negative person equals a positive relationship. A positive person times a positive person equals a positive relationship. But a negative times a positive equals a negative. You, John, Jade, Rose, and I, in all of the permutations our friendships could develop, all equal positive relationships. But Gamzee is a negative, so you multiply him with a positive, such as John or any of you guys, it makes a negative relationship. Simple.” you slid the napkin towards him.  
“Okay, that’s a really odd way of seeing it, but I think I get it.” he said, glancing at the little equations you had written. “He’s a negative influence, is the short of it.”  
“I guess you could say that.”  
“So where do you factor into this? Gamzee’s a negative, my friends and I are positive. It doesn’t matter whether you’re positive or negative, at least one of your friendships is going to be negative. At least, that’s what I’m getting from this.” he rambled.  
“That’s different.”  
“Different how? What makes you immune to the laws of math?”  
His accusing tone threw you off. What he was saying made sense, but still.  
You stared at your small hands wrapped around the coffee cup. Even though you were indoors, you were a little cold.  
“I don’t know why it’s different, but it just is. I’m fine with everyone.” you tried to say.  
“That sounds like a lie. But if you think Gamzee is a bad influence, I’ll stay away from him. He seems kind of stoner-ish, and I don’t judge much on that-”  
“You’re right.” you interrupted. “And there’s things he’s less public about, but I’m certain he’s dabbling in harder drugs.”  
His face went a little paler. “Well, pot I can get, but if you’ve lived the life I’ve lived, you have a grudge against those more… violent drugs.”  
“So do you know the agendas of the other three? Like, their opinions on drugs?”  
“Very pro-marijuana. But this is a big college town, you probably already guessed that. As for, like, meth and coke and stuff? I don’t know.” he pondered.  
“What’s your issue with it?”  
Now, it was his turn to stare down at his hands in silence before he spoke.  
“Pot isn’t that big a deal because it just makes a person sort of happy and chill. But the more dangerous drugs are scary, you know? They change a person, and not just when they’re high, either. They fuck up a person’s head worse than just the initial buzz.”  
“I’m worried that’ll happen to Gamzee, too, you know?”  
He looked at you grimly.  
“Chances are, if you’re just now suspecting it, it’s already happened. Unless he’s a real dumbass, he’s probably hidden the habit for a while.”  
“You don’t know that.”  
“I’m not saying it’s true.” he said forcefully. “All I’m saying is that in my experience, and trust me, I have plenty, he’s most likely in pretty deep.”  
“Stop being so damn cryptic with this. You keep giving me all this anecdotal wisdom, yet I still have no clue what you’re talking about, so if you’re going to apply personal experience, why not spit it out already instead of keeping it choked up?”  
Though your words were clearly hurtful, he kept on.  
“It’s something I find hard to talk about, okay? We can’t all be willing to overshare to anyone who’ll listen.”  
“Right. I’m sorry about being so pushy.” you apologized.  
“It’s fine, don’t worry. I get your anger, I pretty much did just accuse your best friend of being a drug addict, despite me having little to no reason or evidence to make such a claim.”  
You cracked a smile, pushing your empty cup away from yourself.  
“Well, we should go. It’s late.”  
“I agree. You good to go back to your dorm with Gamzee there and whatnot? After today?” he asked.  
“Yeah, I’ll be okay. I will have to give him a firm talking-to though.”  
“Good luck with that.”  
He held open the door for you and you stepped into the October night.  
“It was nice talking to you.” you said, offering your hand to shake.  
“Yeah, I liked it. Jesus, your hands are cold!”  
“Are they?”  
“They’re a hell of a lot colder than mine.” he said, letting go. “Anyways, have a good night.”  
“See you later, Dave.”  
“See you later, too, Karkat.” he turned and began walking away, and you went as well, footsteps fading away from each other.


	4. The Life We Bury-iv

After you and Dave parted for the evening, you decided to take a walk. Calming down, you figured, would be the best option before going back to talk to your roommate- preparing things to say and whatnot. So you wandered, too deep in thought to think about where you were going. You headed towards the downtown area, there were plenty of places to think over there.  
The first thought that occured to you was rationalizing your stance. You’d have to let Gamzee down easy, after all, he wasn’t being malicious in hanging out with your friends. Probably just bored and wanted to see what they were like, which isn’t bad, but if he gets closer to them, that would be a problem, considering your math that you figured out. So you’d have to be kind but unquestionable in your request-give no room for him to deliberately misinterpret what you mean.  
You and Gamzee had been friends since high school, so it was only rational to be roommates during college. You reminisced a little, thinking back on the late-night phone calls and hanging out all the time. Even though you were living together, these days, you seemed to be further apart than ever, nonetheless, he was still your best friend. After thinking about him a little more, you again tried to formulate some sort of argument against him in the book club. You’d think of something when you got there.  
Right, you thought. You had pretty much no plan for what to say, but it would turn out fine. You left that alone and got your bearings instead. You were a couple blocks from the museum, a main feature of the city, so you walked up towards it. Museums are good places to wander around for a long time, and this one stays open late, but it looked like there was some sort of evening party going on inside, people in fancy suits and dresses out on the balcony. A champagne cork popped, making you jump.  
Had you been dressed nicer, you would have seen if you could sneak into the party and steal some rich people’s booze. Though you weren’t the party type, crashing them was much more fun.  
You turned on the corner and down towards a fountain where a few kids your age lounged around smoking, watching the koi lazily drift throughout the shining water. Last time you were down this way, the fountain was dry and empty, save for a few autumn leaves pooling in the bottom of it. You briefly pondered how the fish were going to survive the winter, before you noticed a water heater installed beneath the rim of the bowl.  
“Hey, red.” someone said.  
“Excuse me?”  
You turned around and spotted the voice’s owner: a twiggy nerd.  
“Red. Creative writing class?” he asked.  
“Do I know you?”  
“No, but we share a class. Does that not warrant a conversation?”  
“I guess it could.” you responded. You had seen him before. “Who are you, then?”  
“Sollux Captor, computer science major. You?”  
He ambled up to you and sat on the edge of the fountain, patting the spot next to him.  
“Karkat Vantas.”  
“You’re not very sociable, are you? Doesn’t matter. I’m gonna talk to you anyways. What’s your major?”  
You were shocked by this guy’s brass. He had a lisp and his voice had an annoying twinge to it, like a bruise keeps aching.  
“Pre-law. How about you?”  
“I just told you, didn’t you hear me?” he teased. “Maybe all of this social interaction is getting to your head.”  
“Probably. I’ve had a busy night.”  
“So you can’t talk to a classmate?”  
You decided, against your better judgement, to sit next to him.  
“See? I can talk to a classmate. Books, writing, blah, blah, scholarly nonsense. What do kids these days talk about?”  
He thought a moment. “I don’t know. Weather? Video games? Dismantling society? Take your pick, I’m open to whatever.”  
“Well, there’s not enough people here to dismantle society, and I don’t own a gaming system. So I guess it’s a nice night.” you said, trying to make conversation.  
“Yeah, the stars are out. They’re usually pretty hard to see here.”  
“Are you from somewhere you can see more of them, like the country or something?”  
He laughed. Though his voice was annoying, he did have a nice laugh.  
“If by “the country” you mean a town in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere, then yeah. The only place we had internet was the public library!”  
“God, that really is the middle of nowhere. So what brings you to the big city, farm boy?” you asked.  
“That place was a dead end. Don’t get me wrong, I miss the stars, but small town life isn’t for me. I was going batshit, it was so boring. How about you? Where are you from?”  
“I’m from a city that’s slightly smaller than this one, but big enough so that I can’t see stars, either.”  
Something whizzed through your field of vision as you stared up.  
“Did you see that?” Sollux exclaimed. “Shooting star! Make a wish, if you believe in that sort of thing.”  
“I’ve never seen one before.”  
“Well, you better make a wish, then. Even if you don’t believe, it’ll make up for your deprived childhood.” he joked.  
“At least I had friends that I wasn’t related to.” you jabbed back.  
“Haha, very funny, wise guy. You just don’t understand how small-town social structure works. It’s big enough so that I had non-familial friends. Very marginally, but still.”  
“Would it be considered rude to ask if your parents are cousins?”  
He smacked you on the shoulder. “Yes, it would. God, like I said, the town wasn’t that small.”  
A moment of silence stood still for a moment, and he took a drag off of his vape, making you blurt a laugh.  
“Are you seriously vaping?” you mocked.  
“Hey, don’t diss it. At least if you haven’t tried it.” Vapor coiled from his lips and drifted away. He offered the pen to you.  
“Anything illegal in there?” you said, taking it.  
“Nope, just vape juice, but what are you, some kind of square?”  
You took a lungful of vapor and held it for a moment. It felt heavier than the few times you’d smoked a bit, but burned significantly less. You let it out. It did look kind of cool, despite being dorkier than just smoking.  
“Not that bad?” he asked. “Lemon-lime flavor.”  
“It wasn’t that bad until you said that it’s lemon-lime flavored. Give me that.”  
You did it again and noticed one of your classmates walking by, so you held your breath until they passed. Once they were gone, you and Sollux erupted into a fit of laughter, white clouds billowing out of your mouths.  
“So what are you doing next weekend?”  
You thought about it for a while.  
“I don’t really know, I don’t have plans. Presumably, my book club on Friday, but my evenings are free on Saturday and Sunday.”  
“Well, you’re pretty cool, and I need to bring a friend to this big party on Saturday night.”  
“Why?”  
“Karkat, social graces one-oh-one, don’t question why someone is inviting you somewhere. If you really must know, it’s because my pseudogirlfriend is throwing a party with her whole sorority, their partner fraternity, and all of their friends. Upwards of three hundred people, and I don’t want to go alone to hang out with a bunch of mainstream frat boys, probably pursuing a degree in sociology or business, probably drinks Miller Lite, probably fucks a girl once and never speaks to her again. Excuse me while I go throw up.”  
“Okay, you’re describing it in the worst way possible, but I’m in. Which sorority and fraternity is it?”  
“Only the most elite ones on campus. Eta-Iota-Beta and Gamma-Omicron-Delta. ΗIβ-ΓΟΔ for short. You need to be super rich and have a high birthright to get in.”  
“And who’s your pseudogirlfriend?”  
“You wouldn’t know her. But in typical fashion of those two houses, she’s dating some ΓΟΔ frat boy, even though she says she really likes me.”  
“I’ll be there. Text me.” you said, handing him your phone.  
“You okay with underage drinking?”  
“Sollux, you have a lot to learn about me.” you sighed.  
“Right back at you. I’ll educate you on the small town life, and you can teach me about the big city. How was it, growing up knowing so many people it was impossible to create a meaningful emotional bond?”  
“What do you mean? I had friends.”  
“For me, I graduated high school with the same twenty-three kids I met on the first day of kindergarten. Did you have that?”  
“No,” you said, amazed. “What was that like?”  
“Imagine your best friend in the world, the one who can look at you and know what’s wrong, can tell when you’ve skipped breakfast or missed a few hours of sleep, no matter how you strive to conceal it.” he lamented, caught in a nostalgic rêverie. His face was awash in a romantic glow- as though he had just woken up from a wonderful dream and hadn’t quite realized it was over, still swept up in his mind’s beautiful, nonsensical conjurings. “Now imagine having twenty-three of that person, so that no matter what, you had someone to talk to.”  
“That sounds incredible.” you commented. Even though he initially complained about his small-town life, it was very obvious he missed the place.  
“Yeah, it was annoying when I wanted to be left alone and I had at least five people at any given moment asking me if I was okay!”  
Looks like he was back to reality, then.  
“So how about the big city?”  
You gave a little hum of thought.  
“I don’t know. There were a lot of fights, I guess. My city had East, West, and Far West high, and that one school nobody really gives a shit about.”  
He laughed. “So I assume you went to the one nobody gives a shit about?”  
“No, and rude.” you corrected. “I went to Far West.”  
“And you had fights? What were those like?”  
“Well, I was never in one, but I saw a lot. A couple times, kids from other schools came to join in! Once, a bunch of kids from a completely different school district broke in and stabbed this one guy in the throat, that was ugly.”  
“Jesus Christ.” he looked amused and shocked. “I think, even though it could suck, I liked my school better.”  
“I have to say, I agree. Though the anonymity of a big city is nice.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I think when you’re in a city like this, there are so many different people’s lives happening around you, it’s a haze of activity, and when everything else is blurry, it’s your own stories that make the most sense.”  
“I get that. I knew everyone, so I paid a lot more attention to other people than myself.”  
“It’s a trade-off.” you concluded.  
Seeing the hour on your watch, you began heading home. It was almost ten somehow, you had been walking for a really long time. However, as you neared the building, anxiety started to grow in your chest until it felt like an overinflated balloon, yet you kept going.  
Everything will be fine, you reminded yourself. It’s just a confrontation.  
Your feet were leaden weights as you ascended the staircase and a strong feeling of dread pervaded your mind. This will be fine, you thought again. You didn’t believe it.  
There it was, at the end of the hallway, your dorm room. The resident assistant was already getting Halloweeny, all the doors were decorated with the names of the occupants, written on cut out pumpkins, bats, and ghosts.  
When you went to unlock the door, your hand shook and missed the keyhole several times, but when it finally clicked open, you couldn’t help but feel like it might be a mistake to do this, but as you stepped in, the thought dissipated.  
“Gamzee? We need to talk.”  
An empty room.  
You rolled your eyes and tossed your bag onto the couch, relieved. Falling backwards into bed, you kicked off your shoes and began relaxing, stretching and feeling your joints crack, and nearly falling asleep, when you recalled the events of the day. You remembered what Dave said, grimly reminding you of Gamzee:  
“Pot isn’t that big a deal because it just makes a person sort of happy and chill. But the more dangerous drugs are scary, you know? They change a person, and not just when they’re high, either. They fuck up a person’s head worse than just the initial buzz.”  
That rattled around in your mind, no matter how long you tossed about in bed, you couldn’t fall asleep now. An idea surfaced, you tried suppressing it, but it wouldn’t let you alone. You had to go through his drawers.  
You started with the top of his dresser, which held nothing suspicious, well, nothing you didn’t know about already. Just a pipe and a small bag of weed, which wasn’t out of the ordinary. You moved on, searching a few more cabinets, not finding much, until you opened his desk drawer and found a syringe. Since you were on the right track, you began searching more in that vicinity.  
At the same time, you were incredulous yet unsurprised when you moved a few sheets of paper and revealed a plastic baggie filled with whitish, pointy bits of substance. From your limited drug knowledge, you guessed it was either cocaine or meth.  
You turned on the lamp to get a better look at whatever it was, and the exact moment you bent over to examine the drug further, the door flung open.  
“Hey, Karkat.”  
He saw what you were doing, the bag, lamp, open desk drawer- very incriminating.  
“Are you going through my stuff?”  
“Um, no. Yeah.” you stuttered.  
“What’s the matter with you?” he near-shouted, coming inside. He slammed the door behind him.  
“I was looking for-”  
He interrupted. “Looking for what? My shit?” He stormed up to you and snatched the bag, throwing it down on the floor.  
“No! I don’t know what I wanted to find!” you defended. “I’m just worried, okay?”  
“Shut up, Karkat!”  
You fell silent and let him speak.  
“Do I get no privacy? You’re fucking ridiculous, you know?”  
He was on the verge of yelling, you had to keep it down.  
“You’re doing drugs, Gamzee! What do you want from me?”  
“Leave me alone and stop worrying about me, it’s not a big deal!”  
“It is a big deal.” you insisted. You opened your mouth for justification, but before you could get out a word, he slapped you across the face, shooting stars flew through your field of vision, and you fell onto the ground, leant against the side of the couch.  
He took a step back. “You, fucking stupid...”  
You felt the left side of your face, it was stinging like a bitch. Your head was spinning, you couldn’t tell if it was from being hit or the shock of it all.  
“What the hell?” you mumbled.  
“I-” he started. A look of sadness crossed his face, replacing the anger.  
Gamzee dropped to his knees next to you and took your face in his hands.  
“I’m sorry.” he said quietly. “You know? School and everything, it’s so stressful, and I need to wind down sometimes.”  
He sat next to you and began talking.  
“I know you have anxiety, so you gotta understand how I feel. I guess doing drugs helps, it helps me ignore it for a while.”  
“It’s going to make you lose your mind,” you thought. “You’ll lose control.”  
He went on, talking about why he does what he does and whatever, but you weren’t there. You felt like you were a million miles away, your ears rung. He had slapped you. It wasn’t like he hadn’t hit you before, he had when he was drunk during high school and you needed to bring him home from whatever idiotic party he was at, but it had been at least a year since that happened.  
At some point, you had fallen asleep, and you woke up, glancing at your LED clock face- it was nearly three in the morning, and Gamzee’s head was in your lap. Your entire lower half was numb, which made getting up even more difficult. You wobbled to the mirror, touched the developing bruise, with an ugly blotch of reddish purple cradling your eye socket.  
“What the fuck?” you whispered.  
You put on your pajamas and went to bed, glad, after the day you had, to fall backwards into the murky blackness behind your mind.  
The next morning, you woke up and began getting ready to go to work. You fixed up a cup of instant coffee for breakfast, and just as you were about to head out, you heard Gamzee call after you. You noticed he was in his bed, during the night he must have woken up and properly gone to sleep.  
“Karkat, you want to stay home today?” he beckoned.  
You stepped back inside.  
“No, I have to work this morning. Saturday mornings are almost as busy as Mondays.”  
“C’mon, man.” he argued. “Boys day in, we could watch whatever romcom you want and just chill out.”  
The offer was tempting, Netflix had just dropped a couple of new ones from the 90s, but you had to go.  
“I really can’t miss this morning.” you said.  
“Just call in, it’ll be fine.”  
Fifteen minutes later, you added a final “cough” to your spiel to your manager about how sick you were, and she gave you the day off with a warning to lay off the partying.  
“Alright, have a nice day, Jane.” you hung up the phone.  
You curled up on the couch with your knees tucked to your chest, the coffee shop’s apron discarded on the end table beside you. Gamzee helped you pick out a new movie, and together you sat back and began watching it.  
The romcom was wonderful and you ended up crying by the end, and when your roommate handed you a bunch of tissues, last night was forgotten.


	5. Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark-i

John messaged you on Thursday night to fill you in on what you missed during the last book club’s meeting. In earnest, you were a fairly shitty book club member. Your attendance was not quite up-to-par, but you didn’t miss much, by that time you had already finished the book and the club’s discussion was a rehashing of what you knew.  
The protagonists cracked the diary’s code, encrypted by the letters of a pangram, solved the murder, cleared the name of the convicted old man, and unfortunately for you, they wound up getting together by the end of the book.  
In that case, you were glad you missed the meeting, Dave would have given you a glance that said “I was right, no book containing two protagonists of opposite genders will ever end platonically”. Or maybe he would have said that out loud.  
A phone call interrupted your spaced-out musings.   
“Uh, hey John.” you answered.  
“Hey, Karkat. Do you have any spooky or Halloween-themed books for the club tomorrow?”  
“Yeah, I bought some yesterday.” You glanced under your bed at the paper bag from a local used bookstore, bulky with a few copies of traumatizing scary stories from your childhood. You wondered why John didn’t just text you about it.  
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that. We’ll pay you back!”  
“No, it’s fine…” you insisted.  
“We’re going to pay you back. Anyways,” he began. “Sorry about last week with Gamzee. I can’t say anything on behalf of the others, but I get why you don’t want him to join the club.”  
“Thank you!” you sighed. “I’m glad we-”  
“Yeah! Jade told me that he was pretty much your only friend for most of high school, so I can imagine you aren’t all too used to him hanging around other people. And that’s okay.”  
“That’s not what I meant, asswad.”  
“Ha, well you have a good night. See you tomorrow!”  
He hung up abruptly and you could sense the awkwardness. Even in his apology, he was wrong, but at least he appeared to have proper remorse, and you would take what you could get.  
You might have been planning to skip the meeting tomorrow, but now you had plans to worry about. The nature of your friends led you to the assumption that costumes would be considered proper attire, and you took a mental inventory of your closet, which contained little to no costume inspiration. Not trusting your memory, you decided to go digging through your mess of a clothes pile to see if you could come up with something.  
In all other aspects of your life, you were fairly tidy- to a degree some may call neurotic- except for a pile of clothes in the back of your closet, where you kept anything you didn’t have the hangers to organize. So you rifled through it, and near the bottom you found a skeleton sweater. Perfect, and you wondered why you didn’t wear this more often, it was badass. Pair it with black skinny jeans and matching accessories, and you had a casual-cool Halloween outfit.  
The next day after school, you went up to your dorm and grabbed the bag of books, then took a breather while drinking a glass of water. Between sips, someone knocked at the door. You went and answered it, and laughed uncontrollably.  
A shitty sheet ghost, clearly made last-minute out of a bedsheet, with the eyes concealed by a pair of shades on over the eyeholes. You beckoned him inside as the fit of laughter dispelled, and straightened up. Dave turned away from you for an instant, momentarily placing his sunglasses on the counter and taking off the sheet. His face was pointed away from you, but seeing his mostly-obscured profile without shades for a few seconds was a bizarrely intimate experience that dissipated as soon as he slipped them back on.  
“Happy Halloween.” you said.  
He sat on the couch and looked you up and down.  
“That’s what you’re wearing?”  
You crossed your arms. “No, I still need to change. Jesus, how lame do you think I am?”  
“I don’t know, man. From what I’ve seen so far, you’re kinda lame.”  
“Hey!”  
“Joking!” He leaned back and checked his watch. “You gonna get ready, or just sit there pouting?”  
“I’m going, jeez.”  
You went into the bathroom and changed into the skeleton outfit, checking yourself out in the mirror, before smearing on dark eyeliner to look a little more spooky. You looked kind of cool, and when you headed out, Dave looked up at you and raised his eyebrows.  
“Like it?” you asked.  
“You look like a Myspace emo from 2005. Is that what you were going for?”  
“No, I’m a skeleton, is that not obvious?”  
“I can tell you’re a skeleton, it just looks like you put zero effort into this costume.”  
“I put in effort, I dug around in my closet’s “clothes I never wear” pile for at least ten minutes until I found this sweater, and now I might even start wearing it every day.”  
You sat on the couch next to him.  
“Besides, isn’t it, like, uncool or something to actually try at something?”  
“Yes, it is uncool to try. However, given the context of the Halloween party, it would be lame and boring to not dress up and be even less cool than trying would make me. Additionally, due to my cool exterior, everyone would expect me to be defiant and not wear a costume, but by wearing one, I further challenge their understanding of how I roll and continue building my inscrutable persona.” he explained.  
“Yeah, I’m not going to pretend to understand those mental gymnastics you just performed, but my interpretation is that you actually give a shit about something.”  
“And that interpretation is your own, regardless of whether or not it’s correct.”  
“Ugh.” you breathed. “You truly toe the fine line between brilliance and utter stupidity.”  
“And that’s what makes me intriguing, it makes people want to know me.”  
“It makes me wish I didn’t.”  
“Clever. You’re getting better at the comeback game. Also, time’s ticking, ready to go?”  
“Uh, yeah.” You scooped up the heavy paper bag. “You think Jade would let me sleep over? I’ve got a party with a different friend tomorrow night and I don’t want to walk home and then walk all the way back over, and then some to the other party.”  
“Yeah, it’ll probably be okay. You’ll need an overnight bag, though.”  
He took the bag out of your hands and rested against the wall.  
You shoved an outfit for tomorrow into a backpack along with some toiletries, and the two of you headed out.  
“So, who’s this other friend you’re going to a party with tomorrow?” Dave asked.  
“His name is Sollux Captor. You know him?”  
“Nope, but I’m not the most social guy in the world. What’s he like?”  
“Kind of nerdy and rude, at first, but I talked to him for a while and he’s not actually that bad. He’s from out in the country, so you’d think he was majoring in agriculture or something lame, but he’s a compsci major. And he shared his vape with me.”  
“He sounded pretty cool until that last sentence.”  
“Come on, vaping’s lame, but not lame enough to completely negate coolness. Besides, I’m ninety percent sure you’ve told me stories about you vaping before.”  
“Karkat!” He made a gesture of fake incredulity. “Do you really think I am so uncool as to vape unironically?”  
“You have a point, he was pretty honest about it. I don’t know him that well yet, but he seemed fine enough.”  
“Where’s the party at?”  
“It’s at the ΗIβ-ΓΟΔ sorority/fraternity house. It’s kind of elite.” you answered.  
“Yeah, holy shit. Are you gonna be okay in there?”  
“I’ll be fine. I can survive a night with rich people.” you assured him.  
“If you need any help, just text me or call and I’ll be there as fast as I can. I’ve heard that those parties get super rowdy and I don’t know how much you’d like that. I’d hate it, personally.”  
“Me too, but maybe it’ll be fun if I’m not too busy scowling at the drunks screaming in my face.”  
You walked up to Jade’s house. Looking around, the evening was very Halloween-y: starry night and a few looming dark clouds occasionally blocking out the bright moon, with a cold breeze.  
Inside the house, it was even more Halloween. There was a snack table, lots of decorations of ghosts and skeletons, jack o'lanterns littered around the room, and creepy music playing with the bass turned to a bone-rattling level.  
“Hey, Rose.” Dave said. “Nice costume. Let me guess, Ursula from Little Mermaid?”  
“Yes, that’s it. Hey, Karkat. Love the minimalist skeleton look, how are you doing?”  
“I’m pretty good. Brought a bunch of books.”  
Dave set the bag on the coffee table, and together you unpacked its contents- Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark, More Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark, and a few other editions from that series.  
“Do you remember when we read these as kids?” Dave asked.  
“Of course.” she responded. “They probably pioneered my growing interests in weird things.”  
“Well, they traumatized me as a kid. I remember reading The Hook and being scared for ages.” you half-joked.  
Jade and John came in from the kitchen holding a few bottles of soda.  
“Dave, Karkat!” they exclaimed together.  
“Hey, guys.” you said. “What’s up?”  
“Nothing much, just getting ready to party.” Jade slid behind the bar. “So, now that everyone’s here, what are you drinking tonight? We have jello shots, the usual bar accoutrements, and I bet I can make any candy into a drink.”  
“Well, that sounds like a fun game!” John said. He dug around in the candy bowl for a couple of seconds and brought over a Twix bar. “Try that.”  
While Jade worked, you asked her about sleeping over tonight.  
“Oh, yeah, I was wondering why you brought your overnight bag. Sure, you can stay the night. But John’s already got dibs on the guest bedroom, and Rose is sleeping in my room.”  
“Everyone’s sleeping here tonight, jeez.”  
“Yeah, but it’ll be fun. Dave, why don’t you stay, too, and complete the set?” she suggested.  
“Sure. You still have a guest drawer with extra toothbrushes and whatnot?” Dave asked.  
“Always.”  
She set the finished drink in front of John, and it, surprisingly, looked good. Creamy chocolate liqueur and bits of candy bar in it.  
He took a sip and smiled.  
“Wow, that’s really tasty. A little sweet, but I’m not used to drinking candy.”  
She laughed and moved on to the rest of the drinks. Yours was easy, you tried to think outside the box and challenged her with cotton candy, which she dissolved in a shot of vodka within seconds, creating the most sugary drink you’d ever tasted.  
Once everyone’s drinks were made, you sat around on the couches, eating candy and flipping through the books for stories.  
“Hey, this is the one I was talking about earlier, The Hook.”  
You passed the open page to Jade.  
“Alright, here we go...” she began.  
“One summer night, a teenage boy was going on a date with his new girlfriend.” The story went on to talk about how they parked their car on a secluded Lover’s Lane, when they heard a radio broadcast about a crazy hook-handed killer who escaped from a nearby asylum.  
They lock the car doors and the boy tries to kiss her again, but the girl is too scared and insists on going home.  
You pulled your knees up to your chest and listened intently.  
The couple make it back to her house, so the boy goes to her side of the car and stops, looking down at the door. She remembers that the car is locked, so she unlocks it, yet the boy still doesn’t move.  
Jade’s voice took on an even creepier tone. “The girl was puzzled and rolled down her window. Then she saw that the boy was staring down at the door handle. Slowly, she looked down and began to scream uncontrollably.”  
You knew what was coming, yet were still scared.  
“There, hanging from the door handle, was a bloody stainless-steel hook.” she finished.  
Despite having heard the story a million times, you still got goosebumps from the ending. Everyone else was quiet for a few seconds, processing it.  
“That’s really scary.” John said. “Is that real?”  
Rose assured him. “No, that’s silly. They’d never let a mental patient keep his hook-hand.”  
“I don’t know,” Dave chimed. “Seems like the kind of thing that could actually happen. There’s no ghosts or anything, just people, so it’s plausible.”  
“Come on, don’t say that.” he insisted. “It’s just a stupid book for babies.”  
“Yeah, it’s made-up to scare dumb teenagers away from making out in cars on abandoned roads.” Jade explained.  
You got up and went to the fridge to get a jello shot and a spoon, and the doorbell rang, so you answered it and brought in the pizzas. From all the candy you had already eaten, you were pretty full, so you had your jello while listening to more stories.  
Everyone got bored with the scary stories, so Jade switched off the music and put on a compilation of Halloween specials from every TV show you could imagine. Midway through an episode of iCarly, you got up and walked over to the snack table to pour yourself some Coke.  
“Anybody want some soda?” you called.  
Dave looked up.  
“Sure, can you get me some strawberry Fanta?”  
You searched around the table, finding nothing, so you checked the kitchen’s fridge.  
“Sorry, Dave. No strawberry soda.”  
“Okay, whatever. You want to mix me a drink, then?” he asked.  
“No, I just sat down. I’m not your waiter.”  
“Fine.”  
He went over to the bar and got a bottle of vodka out.  
He laughed, leaning back into his seat. “I’m trying to get extra fucked up tonight.”  
You wound up snatching it, taking a sip, passing it back and forth during the rest of the show, and you were hammered by the end. The hash-slinging-slasher episode of Spongebob came on, and a couple minutes in, your phone began vibrating in your pocket.  
Leaving the room, you sat on the stairwell before answering.  
“Hello?”  
Gamzee was on the other line, his voice sounded stern.  
“Where are you?”  
“I’m at a friend’s house.” In trying to sound normal, you realized how intoxicated you were. It was hard to talk when you were acting like you weren’t drunk.  
“Which friend?” he demanded. “You should have told me where you were going.”  
“Nobody. I can stay out if I want to.”  
“It’s two AM, are you sure you’ll make it home okay?”  
“I’ll be fine.” you assured. “I’m sleeping over.”  
He hung up without saying another word, and you headed back into the living room and stood in the doorway for a moment.  
“Hey, who was that?” Jade asked.  
“Gamzee.”  
“Oh, you should invite him over!” John suggested sunnily.  
“No, he’s busy tonight. He just wanted to check in on me and make sure I’m doing alright.” You came in and sat back down on the couch, trying to tune back into the show, but eventually, you just fell asleep.  
You woke up to Jade shaking your shoulder.  
“Hey, Karkat. Everyone else has gone off to bed.” She placed a pillow on the couch next to you, and gave you a fluffy blanket. “Have a good night.”  
You laid down on the couch and wrapped yourself in the blanket.  
“Goodnight, Jade.”  
The next morning, the sun was too bright, shining through the windows, and your head felt like it was filled with sand.  
You sat up, looked around, and winced at the sound of clattering in the kitchen, then composed yourself to go see what was going on.  
Jade was standing in front of the stove, flipping pancakes.  
“Morning, Jade.”  
“Morning!” she said. “You look terrible!”  
You slid into a chair at the breakfast bar.  
“Trust me, I feel a lot worse. You got any water?”  
She put a glass and a pitcher of water in front of you, some apple juice, a bottle of ibuprofen. After taking a couple of pills and chugging some water, you were feeling marginally better, until John thundered down the stairs, every stomp sounding like a firework in your brain.  
“Good morning, everyone!” he called.  
You groaned and put your head on the counter.  
“Oh, sorry for being so loud.”  
“Yeah, he’s a little hung-over. But we’re having pancakes for breakfast, nothing cures a hangover like a good breakfast!” She slid a few onto a plate, then looked over at the doorway.  
Rose had silently materialized in the kitchen, and you internally thanked her for not causing a commotion.   
She said, smooth and gently as ever, “I tried rousing Dave, but he’s still too dehydrated and tired to move. He’ll be down here shortly.”  
In a few minutes, Dave shuffled in. He appeared to have been hit by a truck, but that was probably due to having slept off a massive amount of booze. Everyone was sat around the island counter, eating pancakes. Jade was an amazing cook, the breakfast was great, but in the process she had turned the kitchen into a disaster zone.  
Afterwards, you helped clean up the dishes and ingredients.  
“So, I heard that you’re going to a party tonight?” John asked.  
“Yeah, ΗIβ-ΓΟΔ. It’s a big sorority/fraternity.”  
“Really? I’ve heard of a few of the members of that, don’t you have to be super rich to join? So how are you invited?”  
You decided not to clock him on how tactless his question was, and actually answered. “A friend of mine’s girlfriend is a member, so he’s into the party and invited me.”  
“Okay, sounds fun! Maybe they’ll have a really great snack table or something. You know, some gold-crusted Oreos and diamond-studded pizza slices.”  
You smiled and stood up from where you were knelt, wiping a spill of pancake batter off the floor. “Yeah, or tortilla chips with caviar instead of salsa.” you joked back. John laughed.  
When you finished cleaning up the kitchen, you needed to clean yourself up. In the mirror, you looked like a mummified corpse, so you took a shower and got dressed, brushed your teeth, and drank some more water.  
Eventually, you stopped looking and feeling like shit, and it was later in the afternoon. You had a few hours to kill, and it went quickly, with the whole group in one house. You hung out with Rose and she gave you a tarot reading that you didn’t really understand, but it was pretty cool. You played some video games and watched stupid daytime television until it was time to go.  
It was almost dark when you got to the party, and the house was terrifying.  
It loomed above the other houses in the neighborhood, tall, wide, a big lawn, and you could hear the bass pounding from inside. The house seemed to be somewhat malicious, despite being just a house. The ΗIβ-ΓΟΔ logo was spelled out in giant wooden letters across its front, and people spilled out of the building onto the grass.  
You looked on for a few seconds, before turning to respond to a familiar voice.  
“Hey, Karkat.” Sollux came up behind you.  
“Hey.”  
“Nervous?” he asked.  
“No, why do you ask?”  
He glanced down at your hands, which you realized were tapping themselves against your legs. You stopped.  
“Ready, or are you just going to go home?”  
Staring up at the house, you nodded, and headed in, not knowing what to expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so i'm updating! yay! i've been working on this fanfiction for over a year now, and i hope you guys enjoy! i'm going to try to update once a week, but i'm a busy student, you know how it is.


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